Stuck. I’ve been so stuck, my friends. Treading water, unable to move forward. The clearest manifestation of stuckness is my chaotic house and degenerating yard. I have not yet replaced the furniture removed in the divorce. I have not cleaned up the messy areas that need to be decluttered and rearranged. Stuck.
The yard went to hell a few years ago. The raised beds rotted away. Grass and weeds took over the mounds of dirt that remained. Stuff is broken, inside and outside the house. Stuck.
BUT, lately, progress. I now have garden beds again. They look like this:
Except that now there are five of them. There may be a sixth. Haven’t decided whether to bother with the one in the back corner, which historically hasn’t done well. Full credit and props to Mr. Wayne for labor and tools and know-how.
I will plants peas and beans and kale and beets and lettuce and squash and tomatoes. Other things too. I will find inspiration at the nursery.
On the deck there are pots, which until recently contained the remnants of dead herbs and lots of weeds. Now there’s this:
Strawberries, rosemary, dill, sage, and two kinds of mint. More to come. I have lots of pots.
Making progress feels like there have been sacks of sand piled on
my shoulders and I am shedding them, one by one, and becoming lighter. And happier.